


No Returns, Only Exchanges

by kisahawklin



Series: Supernatural Season 9 Tagathon [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Community: episodic_supernatural, Episode: s09e10 Road Trip, Gen, Guilt, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-29
Updated: 2014-01-29
Packaged: 2018-01-10 11:03:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1158924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kisahawklin/pseuds/kisahawklin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam needs to get re-inked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Returns, Only Exchanges

**Author's Note:**

> 9.10 episode cap for [episodic_supernatural](http://episodic-supernatural.dreamwidth.org). Set after 9.12, but relating to events of 9.10.

It's a hotel room somewhere in Montana. Things are inching toward better; Sam's all work all the time but Dean can appreciate that in a person. It's not like he _minds_ drowning himself in work. Mostly he's glad that at some point he's going to get back to the bunker. He misses his bed like a near-physical ache.

Sam comes out of the bathroom, naked because there's no point in trying to strap one of those tiny hotel towels around his gargantuan frame, and the first thing Dean notices is he hasn't gotten his anti-possession tat redone.

"What the hell, Sammy?" he barks, and Sam's head pokes out of the towel he's using to dry his hair like a dog that smells trouble on the air. 

"How come you haven't been re-inked?"

Sam looks guilty, settling the towel on his shoulders before heading over to the bed to throw clothes on faster than Dean's ever seen him. "It's fine, Dean, I'm safe."

Well, Sam _is_ naked, so Dean checks his skin over as he tries to cover it up, and it's not until Sam whips the towel off his shoulders to pull on a t-shirt that Dean sees it. It's a square block of script. Symbols, actually – probably Enochian. He takes the two steps to the bed and keeps Sam from pulling the shirt down so he can examine it. It's delicate looking and almost invisible, like it's several layers under his skin. Cas must have imprinted it. 

"What's it do?"

Sam twists, dislodging Dean's hand and pulling down his t-shirt. "It keeps _everything_ out," Sam says, pulling on a flannel shirt over his tee. "Not just demons."

Dean nods, smiling at Sam with the fake smile he knows Sam won't believe but means he's trying. Normally Sam would look frustrated and maybe upset and kind of hilariously like a big puppy. But not today. Today Sam's eyes are tight and he doesn't sigh or crack a smile. He grabs his coat and heads for the door. "Going for a walk."

Dean nods again, looking longingly at the keys on the table. He misses the days when he could let Sammy walk it off and take off for the bar, knowing Sam would be at the motel when he got back. He doesn't know, now, and so he waits. He lies back on the bed and stares up at the ceiling. He and Sam have had their tattoos since Dean designed them nearly eight years ago. 

He sighs and closes his eyes, the empty feeling in his chest seeming to fill up the whole room.


End file.
